Organized Clutter
by Revriley
Summary: Mikey has realized something, and this has changed his personality drastically. One-shot.


Mikey closed the door to his room quietly, a change from the usual slamming of doors that occurred frequently with the turtles. Sighing, he turned to look at his room. It was cluttered, with papers spilling out of drawers, pencils and comics strewn across the dusty floor. A nasty, pungent smell came from under the bed. Leo and Donny's rooms were super neat compared to his. And Raph's...was acceptable...sometimes.

But the biggest difference between Mikey's room and their rooms, was that Mikey's still had stuff like comics, and action figures. Donny's room had intellectual things in it...tools...materials...engineering books. Leo's had a bed, a bookshelf, a mat, and candles. Raph's had a hammock, a punching bag, and...Mikey didn't really know where Raphael kept his stuff.

Mikey knew what he had to do. The fight he just had with his brothers proved it.

_Flashback_

"_But Raph! Reruns of Scooby-Doo are on! C'mon, please-please-please can I have the remote?" Mikey's begging did not sway Raphael, who held the remote out of Mikey's reach. "No way, Mikey! Wrestlemania's on. Besides, why do ya want to watch a kid's show for anyway?" "It's not a kid's show! It's...it's...like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson!" Leo, who was sitting with Don at the kitchen table smirked, while Donny shook his head. "Mikey," Leo carefully began. "Scooby-Doo is for children. Around seven years old. Sherlock Holmes, is more for our age. And yet you still watch Scooby-Doo." Mikey looked indignant. "I read about Sherlock Holmes. He and Dr. Watson are some of my favorite characters!" Raph had hidden the remote behind his back now, snickering, _

"_I wasn't aware you read books at all, Mikey!" _

_Mikey lunged at Raphael, who laughed and leaped to a crouched position on the couch. "Don't be a hypocrite, Raph. You just watch TV all day." Raph was silent, trying to think of a snappy comeback. _

_"But still, Mikey." Donny spoke up. "At least Raphael doesn't read comics all the time." Mikey felt a burning rage deep within him. Really Don? "What makes you think I do that?" Mikey growled, clenching his fists. Don fell silent. He didn't really side against Mikey that often. It was Leo who replied._

"_You just through a fit over Scooby-Doo. You leave comics everywhere. You even have __action figures_." _Mikey grew hot under his mask. "At least I don't spend every waking moment trying to outdo the rest of us!" He snapped at Leo. Whirling to Raph, he narrowed his eyes. "At least I don't spend every waking moment angry at something or someone!" He turned to Don. "At least I don't spend every waking moment trying to show off how smart I am!" _

_There was a pounding in his head now, and his voice shook as he spoke. "At least I try to bring some cheer and fun into your dull lives! At least I try to make you laugh! At least...at least..." He trailed off, and headed toward his room, leaving only silence behind him._

_End Flashback._

Mikey eyed his room again. After standing there for several minutes, he walked slowly to his bed, and took the quilt off it, shaking it halfheartedly. Several crumbs, a pencil, a action figure of _Wolverine,_ a crumpled piece of paper, and a dime fell out. Mikey stared at the results in disgust. No wonder his brothers avoided his room. Taking an unused dustpan and broom out of his storage closet, he swept up the crumbs, reaching under the bed for the source of the smell, a moldy ham sandwich, and a half-eaten apple. He dumped them in the trash. Satisfied that there was nothing more in his bed, Mikey began straighten it out, flattening the quilt against the bed. Finally, he turned toward the floor. First he gathered up the papers and laid them on his bed in a neat pile. Most of them were sketches, and ripped out pages of comic books. Those he put in a separate pile. Gathering up the stray action figures, he put them in a pile on the bed with Wolverine.

After gathering up the rest of the scattered objects, (books, comic books, coins, etc) he swept the floor more thoroughly. The trash can was a quarter full. Turning to his table-drawers, (he refused to call it a dresser), he cleaned them out too, putting objects into various piles on the bed, and creating new piles when needed. Once they were cleaned out, he looked at the piles he had created, studying them carefully. Finally, he took the sketches, clean paper, and writing utensils, and put them in the first drawer, which was separated into three separate compartments. Then, he took the various weapons he had been training himself to use in his spare time, and put them in the second drawer. There was one more drawer left, and this, he saved for the trinkets he found when he was topside—jewelry, broken toys, old coins...he put them all in. He padlocked all the drawers. Now that he was neat, he couldn't allow his brothers to find his things. There were only a couple of piles left. Poking his head out of the door, Mikey looked at his brothers. Raph was sitting on the couch, staring at the TV. Don was busy tinkering with the toaster, and Leo was, surprisingly, still in the living room. Reading.

"Has anyone got an extra box?" Mikey called. All three of his brothers looked up at him in surprise. "Um, I think so, Mikey. I'll get one." Donny said hurriedly, and rushed off to his lab. Mikey realized that Leo and Raphael were staring at him, but he didn't change his expression, nor acknowledged their gazes. Don returned, holding a cardboard box in his left hand. "Is this big enough, Mikey? Too big?" Donny asked anxiously. Mikey looked at him, and answered after a moment's thought.

"It's fine, Donatello."

Mikey took the box, smiling inwardly at his brother's slack-jawed expression. As he closed the door behind him, he heard Raph say hesitantly, "Donatello? Since when has he called ya Donatello?"

Mikey put the box down on the floor. Going to his bed, he scooped up a huge pile of comics, and put them lovingly in it. This was going to be hard. Opening the door to his storage closet, Mikey put the box with the other boxes from the past—the ones with stuffed animals, toy trains...he had put the action figures in with the comics too.

Mikey saw two bookshelves in a corner of the closet, and grinned. Taking one, he started to drag it across the room—and winced at the noise. He picked it up, and carried it the rest of the way. Taking his books, he organized them in terms of genre, and author, and after, shelving them.

Finally, he took his 'bank', --a money box filled with separate compartments for paper money and change –and sorted the change and dollars in it. This, he padlocked too. Couldn't have Raphael stealing from it...again.

There. Done. Finished. The room looked...so...so...so bare. Mikey wasn't concerned though. He'd probably get used to it in time. Glancing at the now upright alarm clock on the table-drawer, he realized that it was close to dinnertime. He'd better start making dinner...like always. Of course, he could understand why. None of his brothers could cook, and even Raphael got sick of pizza. Mikey faced the door. Why was he hesitating? He had nothing to fear.

He turned the doorknob.

And stepped out.

Huh. There was nobody there. Guess they were all doing their own thing. Good. That meant there would be nobody staring at him. Unless they were watching him from their rooms. He started to open the door to the fridge, and immediately slammed the door shut when he smelled the leftovers of the meat they had gotten last week. He was pretty sure that was the only food they had.

"It's okay, Mikey. We got pizza." Mikey whipped around. There was Raphael, twirling a pizza box one his finger—like a basketball. Although he looked relaxed, Mikey could see the uncertainty in his eyes. Mikey nodded.

"Oh."

The silence stretched between them. Raphael looked uncomfortable, and finally said, "I'll serve it..."

"Where are Leonardo and Donatello? And Master Splinter?"

Mikey didn't feel ashamed for having cut of Raphael so quickly. All of the brothers had done the same thing to each other. No one cared anymore.

Raphael started getting out paper plates. "Well...Donny's holed up in his lab...and Master Splinter and Leo doing their meditating thing again. I'm gonna call them in a sec."

Mikey shook his head. "It is alright, Raphael. I shall go fetch them myself."

Mikey strode off toward Donatello's lab. As he suspected, the door was locked. Mikey took a small kit from his belt, and selecting a small screw-driver/safety pin device, picked the lock. Donatello was sitting at a desk, studying something in a book carefully, but as soon as he saw who it was, jumped up. "Mikey! Mikey...is anything wrong? Raph get ambushed? Did Leo fall asleep during meditation? Did..." Mikey held up a hand. He wanted to smile so _badly_, but...

"I have taken upon it myself to retrieve you and the others for dinner. Raphael has brought pizza. He is waiting for you."

Donatello looked taken aback for a second. "What? Okay, sure. In a second. I've just gotta--"

Mikey narrowed his eyes. Donatello immediately fell silent. "_Now,_ Donatello." Donatello blinked. "...Now it is. Leaving! I'm leaving!" He hurried from the room, Mikey following a few feet behind. Leonardo and Master Splinter were next. Normally, Mikey wouldn't have dared interrupt the Sensei and Leonardo when they were meditating, but then again, right now wasn't what Mikey would call 'normal'. "Master Splinter? Leonardo?" Mikey called, as he strode into the dojo. Of course they wouldn't answer. They were probably too deep in their trances. Sighing, Mikey plopped down beside Leonardo, and felt for them on the astral plane. There they were. It looked like they were in a meadow. "Master Splinter. Leonardo. Raphael has obtained a pizza for us, and I find it necessary to inform you that it is ready." Leonardo and Master Splinter looked up at him in shock from where they sat. "Mikey!" Leo exclaimed, standing up. "My son, Leonardo has told me of what occurred earlier today. Please, whatever troubles you, do not hesitate to tell us." Master Splinter stood up as well.

Mikey regarded them indifferently. What could he say? "I do not hesitate to tell you that dinner is waiting." He said abruptly, and started to fade, waking up in the dojo. He stood up as Leonardo and Master Splinter started to stir, and quickly walked out before they could fully awaken.

Mikey realized that if he didn't eat with his brothers, he'd be extremely pressured to explain himself. Reluctantly, he sat down in a chair away from Raphael and Donatello. Leonardo and Master Splinter joined him soon after. The table was silent as the four brothers ate their pizza, and Sensei had his tea. Mikey ate slowly, aware that his brothers were glancing at him. "So...Mikey..." Leonardo began. "What were you doing in your room all this time?" Mikey gripped the ends of the table. Should he tell them? Of course he should-he had nothing to hide. "Cleaning." At this Raphael gasped, and Mikey watched in mild surprise as his brother bolted to Mikey's room. Mikey's grip upon the table became tighter. "_What the shell?!" _Came from his room.

His brothers got up, as did Master Splinter. The three made way to his room, and Mikey slowly got up to follow them.

Even after already seeing his room clean like this, Mikey still had to stop himself from doing a double-take.Raphael stood in the middle of the room gaping. "Where's...where's...what happened to all ya comics?" Raphael asked. "And the action figures?" Leonardo added. Donatello stayed quiet, so Raphael added, "And...everything?" Mikey shrugged.

"I guess...I guess I just grew up."

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That was the longest oneshot ever! (For me, anyway)

It was really hard for me to write Mikey's dialogue in that way. I can't imagine him saying it, even though I wrote it.

I'm not very happy with the ending. I was thinking of adding more, but this thing is already so long...

This was my first ninja-turtle fic, so any suggestions would be great!

(I also must add that writing Donatello as the anxious-to-please, eager brother was fun!) 8D


End file.
